


Made It This Far

by joshie124



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Sugar Daddy, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Anxiety, Blow Jobs, Bottom Tyler, Car Accidents, Drama, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Smut, Expensive Presents, First Kiss, First Time, First Time Blow Jobs, Fluff, Gore, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, I am a sinner, M/M, Mild Gore, One Shot, Rich Josh, Rich Josh Dun, Slow Build, Smut, Sugar Daddy, Top Josh, joshler - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-15
Updated: 2017-04-15
Packaged: 2018-10-19 06:21:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10634076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/joshie124/pseuds/joshie124
Summary: Tyler needs money. He works two jobs, lives in a shitty apartment, bikes to work. He's been poor his whole life. And he's jealous, too. Jealous of the man who comes into his café every day wearing a pristine suit and orders the most ridiculous, overpriced drink he can. “Large, triple, half-sweet, non-fat, extra-shot, caramel Macchiato, for Josh.”Every day.Until one day, Josh asks him out on a date.When did this become his life?





	

“Large, triple, half-sweet, non-fat, extra-shot, caramel Macchiato, for Josh.”

Tyler set the drink up onto the glass display case at the end of the serving line. He didn’t even have to look at the receipt to remember the name of the drink– the same guy ordered it every day at the same time without fail. He came in at 6:45 every morning almost as soon as the café opened, and by now, Tyler only had to look up at the sound of the bell and make eye contact before nodding and typing Josh’s drink into the cash register. He didn’t even have to hear the order to know what buttons to press. Josh would smile and put thirty dollars on the counter, three tens. One of the bills was to pay for his own order; the second was to pay for the person who came in after him; the third was for Tyler.

Josh was a generous tipper. It wasn’t as though he couldn’t afford it– between his designer suit, his expensive watch, and his leather shoes, it seemed as though there was nothing he _couldn’t_ afford. Tyler would be lying if he said he wasn’t jealous. Nearly every single problem in his life could be solved with a little more cash.

Josh picked up the drink and smiled at Tyler, nodding the same way he did every day. Tyler issued his usual smile and _have a nice day,_ and Josh returned with his usual _thanks, you too._

Tyler didn’t know Josh. He wanted to. He wanted to know why he didn’t order a medium black coffee like every other businessman in the town. He wanted to know where he worked, how he could afford the clothes he wore, what his apartment looked like. The bell rung softly as Josh walked out the door, and Tyler watched him leave.

“Hey, Ty?” His thoughts were interrupted. Jeff, his manager, was poking his head out of the back storeroom.

“Yeah?”

“Can you work the six-to-nine tonight? Maggie called in sick. I’ll pay you overtime?” Tyler mentally went over his schedule. His shift at the bistro down the street ended at 5:45, which meant that he wouldn’t have any time to eat dinner. Then again, another shift meant more savings. He shrugged.

“Yeah, I think so.”

“Sweet. You’re the best,” Jeff said, smiling. The sound of the bell brought Tyler’s attention back. Already, people were walking through the door to get their morning coffees before they went off to work. The morning rush was awful, full of antsy office workers and late-for-school teenagers, but it was also when Tyler brought in the most tips, so he really didn’t mind.

Jeff grabbed his apron off of the wall and tied it around his waist. The two of them worked well together during the rush– Tyler called out the orders and got people moving through the line, and Jeff made the drinks. By the time Tyler got through the first person’s order, the line was already to the door. Josh was smart, getting his drink before the rush came in. Tyler could feel the ten dollar bill pressed into his back pocket.

 

***

 

“Large, triple, half-sweet, non-fat, extra-shot,” Tyler yawned, “Caramel Macchiato. For Josh.”

“Late night?” Josh asked as he took his drink off of the counter. Tyler was startled. The only thing he ever heard Josh say was _Thanks, you too, Thanks, you too, Thanks, you too._

“Uh, yeah,” he said, smiling. “Rough shift, you know?” Saturday nights, Tyler worked tables from seven to twelve at the Crown Bistro, from right after the dinner rush until the restaurant closed. Usually it was middle-aged couples out on a “date-night,” or CEOs at a business dinner, or some other combination of people who all had more money than Tyler. They tipped well, at least. It was a good shift to have, but it made Sunday mornings hell. Josh came in a little later on weekends, in more casual clothes. Tyler wondered what he did with his spare time.

“I get it,” Josh said, smiling. He raised his drink to Tyler as though he was toasting him.

“Have a nice day,” Tyler said.

“Thanks. You too, Tyler.” Tyler blushed at the sound of his name coming from Josh’s mouth. Josh laughed a little at the look on his face before he turned to leave. _God,_ why was Tyler so _awkward?_ He rubbed his eyes, wiped his palms on his apron, and returned to the cash register.

 

***

 

Tyler looked up to the sound of the bell, watching Josh walk in through the door. He nodded and began pushing buttons on the register, but Josh stopped him.

“Actually, today we’re gonna mix it up a little,” he said. Tyler looked up and raised his eyebrows. “What’s the most caffeinated thing you sell?” Tyler laughed and looked behind him at the menu.

“Um,” he sighed, taking in the list of drinks. “Probably a dark roast?”

“I’ll take a large one of those.”

“Do you want me to put any flavor in it?” Tyler asked. Usually, they didn’t do black coffee with anything other than cream or sugar, but by now, he knew that Josh liked his drinks sweet.

“Caramel?”

“You got it.” Josh laid down his thirty dollars and sighed.

“Why the sudden change?” Tyler asked as he put the money into the register and started making Josh’s drink. Josh rubbed his eyes.

“Big meeting, not enough sleep.” Tyler nodded.

“Where do you work?” He poured the dark coffee into the biggest cardboard cup they had, putting a heat guard around the outside of it.

“Mullins Pharmaceuticals,” Josh said. Tyler pumped caramel into the cup and stirred it. “How about you?” Tyler paused and looked at him.

“Where… where do _I_ work?” Josh closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Right. Of course. You work here. Currently. Sorry.” Tyler laughed and put the lid onto the cup, handing it to Josh over the counter. “Thanks,” Josh said, and Tyler noticed that he was blushing.

“Well, good luck,” Tyler said, smiling.

“Thanks.” He sipped the coffee and made a sour face. He shook his head, took another sip, and then raised the cup to Tyler, toasting him. “Have a nice day, Tyler.”

“You too, Josh.” Josh smiled and walked out through the door. Tyler watched him leave. _Mullins Pharmaceuticals._ Damn. Even the secretaries there were rich as hell. Tyler couldn’t even bear to imagine the life that Josh lived.

 

***

 

Tyler sat at the table in the corner of the café, sipping on the tea that Jeff had let him have for free. It was almost 6:45, almost time for Josh to come in and buy his usual. It felt strange to be sitting anywhere else but behind the register, but Jeff had accidentally double-booked the shift, and so Maggie was standing behind the register this time instead of Tyler. Jeff said he would still pay him for the time, so he wasn’t mad, but it felt unusual to have free time.

The bell rang, and Josh walked in. Tyler almost laughed at how confused he looked to see someone other than Tyler sitting at the register, but after a quick glance in the direction of Tyler’s table, he smiled.

“Hi, can I take your order?” Maggie said, a perfect barista smile on her face. Josh pulled his attention away from Tyler.

“Yeah, um, can I get… oh man. A caramel… uh…” Tyler burst out laughing. He’d really forgotten his order.

““Large, triple, half-sweet, non-fat, extra-shot, caramel Macchiato.” Tyler repeated from memory. “For Josh,” he added.

“Yeah. That,” Josh said, blushing. Tyler shook his head, smiling, and took another sip of his tea. Maggie smiled, took his money, and got to making the drink. When Josh had the sugary coffee safely in his possession, he walked over to Tyler’s table and sat across from him. Tyler held his gaze and sipped his tea before speaking.

“Did you really forget your order?” He asked. Josh blushed again.

“Listen, I haven’t actually said it out loud in a while.” Tyler laughed.

“Where would you be without me?”

“Probably drinking black coffee like everyone else in my office,” Josh said, cringing. Tyler shook his head and took another sip of his drink. “Why aren’t you working right now?”

“Scheduling thing. We accidentally double-booked the shift.” Josh nodded. “But it’s fine, because I’m still getting paid, so…”

“Nice.” They both sipped their drinks. Tyler yawned.

“Don’t you have work?” He asked, and then realized how rude it sounded. “Not that I’m bothered by the company, but–“ Josh smiled.

“My first meeting isn’t until eight.”

“Then why are you getting coffee so early?”

“Gotta have time to wake up.”

“Okay, true.” Josh ran a hand through his hair. Tyler watched as his fingers intertwined with the dark brown curls. Josh kept making small talk. They talked about the weather, about the traffic downtown, about how annoying the roadwork was getting. Josh was frustrated with how much longer it took to drive to work, and for the first time, Tyler was grateful that he rode a bike to the café instead of driving. It meant he got to skip over all the backups and bumpy streets. Josh checked his watch after around a half-hour and sighed.

“I have to leave. Duty calls,” he said, standing up. “Thanks for ordering my coffee for me.” Tyler smiled.

“Thanks for staying to talk,” he responded. Josh toasted him and turned to leave, but then he paused and turned back, sticking his hand into his pocket. He put a ten-dollar bill on the table.

“Morning rush tips the best, right? Gotta keep up the reputation.” Tyler didn’t know what to say. He was literally being handed money for doing nothing. But Josh was already walking towards the door. “Have a nice day, Tyler.”

 

***

 

The bistro was, accurate to its name, a beast. Dinner rush lasted hours, and the people who dined there were always the most impatient people. Everything had to be perfect for them, or the whole meal was a waste. At least they tipped well. It was a Friday night, always the most hectic, and Tyler found himself speed-walking between his tables, refilling waters, taking empty plates, putting down steaming platters of vegetables and rice and meat. Every time he put down a dish, he recited the price of it in his head, _$24.50, $19.00, $35.00._ A dinner here would cost his rent. Somewhere on the other side of the restaurant was a screaming child, and he wondered why any reasonable parent would take their toddler to a _steakhouse_ of all places.

Take order, bring drinks, food, refill, replace, clear plates, clear tables. The night was a series of _sorry, I dropped my fork, may I have a new one?_ and _the food was marvelous, my compliments to the chef!_ and _I’d like to send this back– too salty._ Tyler was halfway to the kitchen with an armful of plates when Eliza, one of the other waitresses, stopped him.

“You have a new table by the back,” she said.

“Thanks,” he said, and they passed each other, both rushing off to their own duties. Tyler dropped his dishes at the washing window and made his way over to his new table, collecting plates and empty cups along his way. Without looking up, he started his usual speech.

“Good evening, welcome to Crown Bistro. I’ll–“ he looked up and cut himself off. _Josh._ He was making eye contact with Josh. He was making eye contact with Josh, and Josh was sitting there in a pristine suit, surrounded by other men and women in pristine suits, all staring at him, and he was standing there like an idiot, frozen. _Say something!_ “A waiter will be right with you,” he managed, and then blushed, and then walked away. _Idiot, idiot, idiot!_ He dropped his dishes at the window and grabbed Eliza’s arm as she was darting off in the opposite direction.

“I need you to take table seventeen.”

“What?”

“I need you to–“

“No, I heard you. Why?”

“Please?”

“Tyler, _why?_ It’s in your section. I’m full as it is.”

“I’ll take one of yours, just–“ He looked back to the corner. Josh was laughing at something someone else said, his head thrown back. He looked out of place when he wasn’t standing in front of the cash register at the café. “Please?”

“Are you okay?” _No._ He didn’t know why he was panicking, why his breath was coming so short, why his chest was tight with anxiety. It just _was._ “Tyler.”

“Yeah.” Eliza looked at him, and then put her hand on his shoulder.

“I’ll take seventeen.” Relief flooded through him. “But you have to tell me why.”

“I know one of the guys sitting there.”

“So?”

“It’s just awkward, okay?”

“Is he an ex?”

“What? _No._ I’m just… I’m not good at _social interaction_ or whatever.”

“You chose the wrong job, then.”

“It’s fine with strangers, but– God, I don’t know. It’s just weird.” Eliza gave him a look, but then shook her head and sighed.

“You’ve got twenty-nine, then, once the reservation comes in.”

“You’re the best,” Tyler said, and Eliza smiled at him.

“I know.” She walked off. Tyler looked over at Josh and his table. Josh was looking at him. _Why was he so nervous?_ He felt his face flush red as he turned away. _Breathe._ He got back to work.

 

***

 

“Large, triple, half-sweet, non-fat, extra-shot, caramel Macchiato, for Josh.”

“Will you go to dinner with me?”

“Have a nice– what?” Josh took the drink from Tyler’s hand, but Tyler remained frozen in place.

“Will you go to dinner with me? Tonight. Maybe. If you’re free.” Tyler stared at Josh, saying nothing. Dinner? Like, a date? Like, a _real_ date? With rich, businessman Josh? Tyler could barely even afford to _look_ at him, and now he was being asked out on a date? This couldn’t be happening. He blinked, and Josh was still there. Was he serious? Another question surfaced in Tyler’s mind, and he asked it before he could stop himself.

“How old are you?” He cursed himself in his mind, but waited anxiously for the answer nonetheless. Josh’s face fell. Suddenly, he looked almost worried.

“How… how old are _you?”_ It seemed he hadn’t thought about the little factor of _age_ before asking Tyler out. Tyler hesitated.

“Nineteen.” He waited for a reaction, but Josh had an incredible poker face. “Your turn,” he prompted.

“Thirty-one.” _Twelve years._ This was a bad idea. _Twelve. Years_. When Tyler was six, Josh was applying to college. “I… I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” Josh said, slowly. Tyler scratched the back of his neck. “But I’d like to get to know you better.” Tyler didn’t know what to say. _Twelve years._ “Is… is the age difference an issue?”

_Yes._

“No.”

Josh smiled, and Tyler felt like he was melting and freezing at the same time.

“So, dinner, then?” Tyler managed to focus enough to recall his schedule.

“I get off of work at seven,” he said quietly. He could feel that his face was bright red, but he couldn’t help it. He hadn’t expected this. Not at all, not even in his wildest dreams.

“Do you want me to pick you up?” Tyler didn’t know. He couldn’t think straight.

“Um. No. I… I would have to go home first. To get ready.” Josh nodded. “Where…?”

“I was thinking the Italian place on the corner of Broad and seventh?” Tyler nodded slowly.

“Yeah,” he said, mentally shaking himself. “Yeah, that sounds good.” _Get ahold of yourself._

“How’s eight o’clock sound?” The realization hit Tyler that he was going on a date. A _date._ And not just a date, but a date with _Josh._ He smiled.

“Sounds perfect.” Josh smiled, too. He took a pen from the side of the counter and wrote his number on the receipt for his coffee, handing it to Tyler with a smirk.

“Perfect. See you then, Tyler.”

“Have a nice day?”

“You too.” The bell rang to signal Josh’s exit, and Tyler nearly collapsed right there. Jeff cleared his throat from behind him, making him jump. Tyler wheeled on him, trying to think of something to say, _anything._

“That was interesting,” Jeff said.

“What do I do?” Tyler’s voice cracked. Jeff looked confused.

“What?”

“Oh my god, Jeff, _what do I do?”_

“Go on the date?”

“What, to the Italian place? I can’t pay for that!” He could feel his breaths getting shorter.

“Ty, I’m pretty sure that Josh can pay for dinner–“

“And what do I wear? I don’t have anything fancy. I don’t even have a nice jacket! And he’s _thirty-one,_ Jeff, do you know how much older that is than me?”

“Twelve years–“

“ _Twelve years,_ Jeff. I’ve never even had a boyfriend before!”

“Really?”

“Oh, my _god_.” Tyler felt like his entire body was going numb. Josh had asked him out. Rich Josh, _really rich Josh,_ had asked him out on a date. And he’d said _yes._ What was he thinking?

“Tyler. Breathe.” Tyler let out a shaky breath, pressing the palms of his hands into his eyes. “It’s okay. Go on the date. Have a good time. If it doesn’t work out, it doesn’t work out.”

“And then I have to see him every day for the rest of my _life–“_

“ _Not_ the rest of your life. It’ll be fine. You have my number in case something goes wrong. Just call me, and I’ll pick you up.” He felt Jeff wrap his fingers around his wrists, pulling his hands away from his eyes.

“Really?”

“Really.” He let out another breath.

“What do I wear?”

“Do you own a collared shirt?”

“I think so.”

“Wear that. Roll the sleeves up a little, like… three fourths of the way. And pants. Those pants, even.” Tyler looked down at the black slacks he was wearing and nodded. “Sicily’s isn’t that fancy, I promise.” Tyler nodded again, unsure of what to say. “And don’t do anything you don’t want to.”

“What does _that_ mean?” He asked, looking up. Jeff hesitated.

“He’s older than you. And… more experienced.” Tyler scrunched up his face.

“Oh, jeez– don’t give me the _talk._ ”

“I’m just saying. Be careful.” Josh wasn’t like that. Or maybe he was. Tyler didn’t know him. He didn’t even know his last name. “It’ll be fine. You’ll have fun.”

“Yeah, sure…” Tyler muttered. _If I manage to function properly, maybe._ The bell on the door rang, and Jeff patted him on the shoulder. “Go get some water. I’ll handle the drinks.” Tyler nodded and walked to the back room.

He had a date. A real date. With a real boy. A man. Oh, god, a _man._ Now that he thought about it, Josh was… well, he was hot. And rich. What had he gotten himself into?

 

***

 

It was finally seven. Tyler clocked out with shaking hands. Eliza had asked what was bothering him earlier in his shift, and he’d spilled the whole story to her. Why was it that everyone else was so much more excited for him than _he_ was? She patted him on his back on his way out the door, and he gave her a halfhearted smile. With his tips secured in his backpack, he mounted his bike and kicked up the stand. He only had an hour to get ready.

The streets were just as busy as always; downtown was rough, even without construction. In his head, he went over his mental checklist– shower, shave, brush teeth, get dressed, leave early to walk to the restaurant. He didn’t want to bike, so as not to risk sweating through his shirt or falling and ruining his clothes. He wondered what Josh would look like. Maybe it would be as surreal as the time they saw each other at the bistro, with Josh surrounded by other equally rich-looking co-workers. Tyler sighed as he pulled to a halt, waiting for the traffic light to turn green. The intersection right outside the café was the worst, always with lights that were too short and drivers that were too antsy to get where they were going. Tyler wondered if Josh was in one of these cars. He wondered what kind of car Josh owned. Maybe a Benz. Audi. Mustang. Ferrari.

The right turn signal on the other side of traffic turned green, and he stretched his arms, waiting for his turn.

He’d never been to Sicily’s before. It was a nicer restaurant, one that he couldn’t afford to go to, not while he was trying to save money. He wondered if the menu was like the Crown Bistro, nothing under fifteen dollars, and that was just an appetizer. He guiltily prayed that Josh would offer to pay. He didn’t want to ask. How awkward would it be if he had to _ask._

Finally, the light above his lane turned green. He pedaled forward, matching the speed of the car to his left for the time being. He just had to get across to the other sidewalk. Having so many cars around him made him nervous.

Halfway through the intersection, someone laid on their horn.

Tyler barely had time to glance to his right before the car hit him.

Then he was on the ground. Someone’s hands were under his arms, dragging him across the asphalt. His ears were ringing, and there was no other sound in the world except for that. It was all muted. He tasted metal. The sky above him was swimming with blue and black, moving in waves, as though he was looking up at the ocean. He felt something wet running down the side of his face. Slowly, distantly, he began to register the sound of a car horn, still airing, gradually becoming just as loud as it was before. Whoever had been dragging him had now stopped, and Tyler’s head was being cradled in against their lap. He had to blink a few times to see a face he recognized, and then he had to blink a few more times to remember the name.

“Jeff?” He asked, but his voice didn’t sound like his own. The numbness was beginning to leave his muscles, and it was replaced by something much worse. Jeff looked down at him, eyes wide, and he put a hand against Tyler’s cheek. He had a phone in his other hand, and he was speaking, but Tyler couldn’t hear the words. He looked down toward his feet.

There was bone. That was _bone_. He could see it, sticking out through the skin of his calf, shining white and red, and his shoe was missing. Why was his shoe missing? Why did his leg look like that? It was like there wasn’t any skin left, like it had been torn apart by dogs, like it wasn’t part of his body anymore. There was blood everywhere, all over his pants, on his shirt, dripping into his eyes. His breathing started getting faster. He was going to die. That was too much blood. No one could loose that much blood. He was going to _die._

“Tyler, don’t look,” Jeff said. His voice sounded like it was underwater. Jeff put his hand under Tyler’s chin and brought his gaze back to the sky.

Only a moment later, the pain registered.

He screamed, and then he screamed harder when the pain spread into his ribs, harder when it hurt to take a breath in, harder when he realized what was happening, what had already happened. Jeff was trying to calm him, trying to talk into his phone at the same time, something about an ambulance, something about an accident, something about _it’ll be okay, I promise, you’re going to be okay, please stop screaming,_ Jeff had tears running down his cheeks. Tyler could feel tears running down his own cheeks.

There were people around them. The sky was turning black. Someone was holding Tyler’s bike. The frame was dented and destroyed and there were pieces of his leg, pieces of _flesh_ stuck in the gears, in the spokes of the wheels. He felt like someone was putting his body through a meat grinder. He couldn’t breathe. Everything was tight and tense and laced with fire. There wasn’t enough air in the world to fill his lungs, to let him live a moment longer. His voice wasn’t working anymore, wasn’t making the sounds he wanted to.

He heard sirens.

He thought about the price of an ambulance ride, the price of a trip to the emergency room, the price of surgery, the price of recovery, the price of his broken bicycle. It wasn’t even _his._ He was just renting it. Why had he let the man at the store convince him to get the most expensive bike there? Jeff shifted, and Tyler felt his ribs move in ways they weren’t supposed to, like they were grinding against each other. He didn’t have enough air left in him to scream.

He thought of Josh, waiting for him at the restaurant, waiting to have dinner. He was going to be so late.

People in uniforms were surrounding him. The car horn had stopped. There were hands on his body, hands pressing and pushing and putting things back where they were supposed to be.

The world went black.

 

***

 

Josh waited.

He waited at the restaurant for hours, waited at the table for Tyler to get there, and then waited outside to catch him if he was coming down the street. He waited at his apartment for a phone call, watching his phone screen, his feet tapping anxiously on the ground. There had to be a reason. Tyler wouldn’t just leave him like that, wondering.

It would be okay. Josh would see him at the café.

Except Tyler wasn’t at the café. The next day when Josh pulled up to the café, it was closed, no familiar face to greet him, to remember his order for him, to say, _have a nice day, Josh._ He ordered a dark roast from the place down the street because he didn’t know what else to do.

It wasn’t open the next day, either. Or the next. Josh began to wonder if something had happened. He was being irrational. He just had to wait.

It wasn’t open for the rest of the week. Josh was beginning to get nervous. Maybe something _had_ happened. What _if_ something had happened? He just had to wait. He had to wait.

The next Monday, he walked through up to the door, he didn’t know what to do. The café said _open_ on the door, and Tyler was there inside. But he wasn’t _there._ Not all the way. He had been talking to his manager, _Jeff,_ as it read on the man’s nametag. Dark bruises scattered his cheeks. There were stitches at the edge of his hairline, just above his right temple. He looked like he hadn’t slept in years. He looked over at the sound of the bell. Josh had subconsciously walked in the door. He found himself staring at Tyler, but after a moment, Tyler looked down at the counter. Josh was frozen in place.

“I’m sorry I didn’t call,” Tyler said. His voice was wrecked, cracking and breaking and practically nonexistent. Josh let his mouth fall open, but he didn’t know what to say. “I… um. I don’t…” He looked up at Jeff.

“Do you want me to leave?” Tyler just nodded. He looked miserable. Jeff smiled at him and walked into the back room, leaving the two of them alone in the café.

“Tyler, what…?” Josh’s voice was quiet, concerned. It made Tyler feel even guiltier than he already was.

“I got hit by a car. Two cars, um… technically. I was on my way home, and I… I missed our date.” Josh stepped closer, and realized that Tyler was sitting on a barstool behind the counter. There was a pair of crutches leaned up against one of the coffee machines.

“Tyler–”

“I’m sorry.” Tyler looked up at Josh. His eyes were all bruised. One of them was all red on the side, like he was bleeding from the inside. Josh stared at him.

“Please don’t apologize.” Tyler blinked and looked down again. “Are you… okay?” The question seemed stupid, but Josh didn’t know what else to ask.

“No,” Tyler said bluntly. He was too tired to sugarcoat it.

“Then why… why are you at work?” He didn’t know what else to ask. He wasn’t expecting _this._

“I’m okay enough to work.”

“Are you sure?” Tyler breathed in, out.

“I have to.”

“Why?” Tyler shook his head. Josh couldn’t understand it. Tyler looked like he still needed to be in the hospital, like he needed to be asleep, recovering, not sitting behind a cash register. “Tyler, _why?_ ”

“Because I have to pay rent, and I have to pay for the bike, and then I have to start saving all over again for college because I don’t have enough money for even the first semester and…” Tyler inhaled and it sounded like he was gargling water. “The morning rush tips the best,” he said. Josh felt like his chest was going to split in half. They stared at each other I silence.

“What can I do?” Josh asked, finally. Tyler shook his head. _Think, think._ “Can I at least drive you? You can’t bike anymore… I assume.” Tyler laughed, and then his face went sour with pain. The whole action served as an answer to Josh’s question. “If you insist on working, I can drive you, to and from. Okay? And… maybe eventually you can make it up to me, and we can go to that Italian place.” Tyler smiled. The swollen spots on the right side of his face shifted and ached with the action, but he smiled anyway, and nodded.

“Um…” Tyler said, “I… I need to take my bike back to the shop…”

“It can fit in my trunk.”

“Okay.” Josh smiled at him.

“Where are you going to college?” He asked. Tyler looked down, red blush mixing with purple bruises on his face.

“Yale. Hopefully.” Josh grinned, ear-to-ear, pride swelling in his chest. _Yale._ Tyler looked up and smiled, too. “Do you want your drink?”

“If I buy something, can I stay for a while?”

“You don’t have to buy something. Just stay.” Josh nodded. He stayed.

 

***

 

People tipped a lot more when the person serving them looked the way Tyler did. Most of the people coming in recognized him from the news as _the kid who got into that awful car crash_. Tyler’s only job was to sit and take orders, all morning long. He didn’t even have to make drinks. Jeff helped with that. People would smile sympathetically when they saw him and they’d leave ones and fives and tens in the tip jar. Tyler didn’t think it was worth it to destroy his body for a couple more tips, but it was certainly a plus.

Josh was driving him to work in the morning, now. They’d talk about Josh’s upcoming meetings, about Tyler’s experiences at work, about when Tyler’s next doctor’s appointment was. Josh would help him down the stairs at his apartment and into the car, and when Tyler’s ribs hurt too much to breathe, Josh would help him then, too.

And Josh paid for the bike. They’d taken it over after work that day that Josh had finally seen Tyler again, and the man was not pleased to see his best bike covered in dents and blood, and he didn’t understand that Tyler didn’t have the money, so Josh just gave him his credit card and let him charge what he wanted. It didn’t matter. He told Tyler to consider it a no-interest loan, but Tyler felt guilty nonetheless.

Tyler still looked half-dead. The bruises on his face looked yellow, now, and the bags under his eyes still hadn’t gone away. He felt better, though. More awake. When Josh helped him into the car that day, he didn’t go straight at the intersection like he was supposed to. He turned left. Tyler sat up a little, holding his ribs in place with his arm, like he always did.

“Where are we going?” He asked. Josh couldn’t help but smile. “Josh.” He smiled a little wider. “ _Josh._ ”

“We’re going on a date.”

“Josh, I look like I should be six feet under–“

“You look perfect.”

“If I look perfect now, I must’ve looked like a Greek God before,” Tyler muttered, leaning back in the passenger seat.

“Yeah,” Josh sighed, and Tyler blushed. “Come on. Tell me you don’t want to go out. You’ve just been sitting at home for _two weeks_.”

“I look like hell.”

“You look fine.”

“No, _you_ look fine. _I_ look like hell.”

“Well, I guess hell is just as hot, so…” Tyler rolled his eyes, but he smiled.

“Where are we going?”

“Sicily’s.” Tyler just stared at him. “We need to have a proper date, Tyler.”

“Oh, so you think we’re _dating_ now,” Tyler said, raising his eyebrows. Josh looked over at him with a sour look. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding. A date sounds nice. Really nice, actually.” Josh smiled.

“I know.”

They ate. They talked. They laughed. Josh told Tyler gossip from work that made Tyler swear his life was a soap opera. It was a date. A real date, not just a _driving to work_ date or a _do you want me to help you change your shirt_ date or a _can you drive me to the hospital, I think something is wrong_ date. It was a real, _real_ date. Tyler couldn’t stop smiling, no matter how much it made his bruises hurt. He was happy. There was something in his life now that wasn’t work, something that wasn’t fear, something that wasn’t money issues.

Josh paid the bill without a second thought, and Tyler let him. Josh helped Tyler stand, helped him to the car, made sure that he was okay. It was dark outside, and the car was one of the last ones in the near empty lot. Tyler leaned back in his seat as Josh leaned over him from outside the car to put the leftovers on the ground in the back. Before Josh could pull himself all the way back out of the car, Tyler twisted his hands into the front of his shirt and pulled him in.

He didn’t know why he did it. Never in his life had Tyler been one to make a move, to take a risk. He calculated, planned, theorized every possible outcome before making his decision. Maybe it was because of the way his life was falling apart and coming together at the same time, because of the slow realization that he would never have been able to pay for Yale, because of the slow realization that he would never find anyone like Josh again in his entire life, because of the slow realization that he was _happy,_ despite the cruelty of the world he lived in, despite the bones that were still cracked in his body, despite the lack of an end goal.

Their mouths came together abruptly, and every problem, every issue, every fear he could ever think of was suddenly gone from his thoughts. Tyler could feel Josh’s lips brushing over the bruises, and he imagined them disappearing under his touch. Josh put a hand behind Tyler’s head, carefully, letting his fingers slip through the short hair by his neck, and Tyler let his lips part slightly, short breaths escaping their confinement. Josh pulled Tyler in just a little more, held him just a little tighter, and Tyler tightened his grip on Josh’s shirt.

He remembered Jeff’s words; _don’t do anything you don’t want to._ Was Tyler supposed to want this? Was he supposed to _not_ want this? Josh’s tongue was in his mouth. Was that supposed to happen? All his anxiety and unease vanished when Josh sighed, his exhale becoming Tyler’s inhale. The feeling of it made his stomach tight, made him want to learn how to do the same for Josh. _Don’t do anything you don’t want to._ He wanted this. He wanted this more than anything.

It was perfect, until it wasn’t– until something in Tyler’s chest shifted and his ribs seared with white-hot pain. He gasped, and then whimpered, _pitiful_ , pulling away, but still holding tight to the fabric in his hand. It was a lifeline; a guarantee that Josh was still there, that he wasn’t going to disappear. Josh kept his hand where it was, right at the back of Tyler’s neck. They were frozen, Tyler trying to catch his breath in between waves of agony, his eyes squeezed shut, and Josh not knowing what to do except stay there, close by.

“Tyler?” Tyler couldn’t speak. “What can I do?” _Nothing._ He whimpered again, a high, sad sound that made Josh’s heart hurt.

Finally, after what felt like hours, Tyler’s bones settled enough for him to speak.

“Sorry,” he said, his voice barely audible. Their faces were still close together. Tyler could feel Josh’s breath on his face, warm. Josh didn’t say anything. Instead, he tilted his head up and pressed his lips into Tyler’s forehead, in one of the few patches of skin that hadn’t been bruised or stitched back together.

“It’s okay,” Josh said. Tyler could hear the smile in Josh’s voice without seeing it. “It’s… you’re so amazing, Tyler.” Tyler breathed out a laugh, and then regretted it immediately as his muscles tensed with pain.

“Don’t make me laugh,” he said, smiling despite the ache in his bones.

He let go of Josh’s shirt, and Josh let his hand fall away from Tyler’s neck. He walked around to the other side of the car and sat down. They both sat there in the dark parking lot, staring ahead at the empty streets. Tyler sighed slowly.

“That was my first kiss,” he said, closing his eyes. He could hear Josh shift in his seat, feel Josh staring at him, but he didn’t care. He smiled.

“How was it?” Josh asked after a pause.

“Perfect.”

 

***

 

Josh’s apartment looked more put together than Tyler’s entire life, and it was probably the most beautiful thing Tyler had ever seen. He’d been over there so many times, but he never got over the way everything looked so _perfect._ It was so _Josh._ Expensive, but inviting.

They were sitting on the couch, Josh leaning up against the armrest with Tyler horizontal with his head in Josh’s lap, watching the Titanic because it was what was on TV and neither of them wanted to get up to get the remote. They looked out of place, both lounging in sweatpants and t-shirts, inexpensive anomalies in a room full of designer furniture. Josh had one hand in Tyler’s hair, moving his fingers ever so slightly, and his other hand in draped lightly over Tyler’s stomach. His ribs were slowly getting better. The cracks had healed, leaving only bruises in their wake, and he’d gotten most of his stitches out. A walking boot had replaced the cast around his leg. He no longer looked like a dead man walking. Josh shifted a little and sighed.

“Hey, Ty,” he said softly. “You asleep?”

“No,” Tyler answered, equally as softly. He was hardly even tired.

“Good. I have a present for you.”

“You what?” Josh was already helping him sit up all the way. Tyler watched him with curiosity as he darted off to his bedroom, coming back with a simple, plain black box. “What is it?” He asked. Josh placed it into his hands.

“Open it and find out,” he said. Tyler looked down at the present in his hands. He pulled the lid off, and then the sheer white tissue paper underneath to reveal a watch. Not just a watch. A _nice_ watch. The face of it was solid black, the numbers printed in metallic letters around the rim. There was a gold border around the glass. Tyler stared at it, unable to comprehend its existence.

“Do you like it?” Josh asked. Tyler looked up at him and then back down at the gift.

“I… why did you…?”

“Does there have to be a reason?”

“Josh, I… you… this is…” He couldn’t find the words. “It’s amazing. Beautiful.” He wanted to cry, but it wasn’t out of happiness. Josh saw right through his words.

“Ty, what’s wrong?” He had to be honest. He had to be honest. _Relationships are built on honesty,_ that’s what Jeff said, and Jeff hadn’t been wrong yet. He told the truth.

“I could never get you something this nice,” he said quietly, staring down at the glass surface of the watch. Josh was silent for a moment. The Titanic was slowly sinking, a mirage of pixels on the wall beside them. Josh put his hand to Tyler’s cheek, his fingers running over the place just under his eye where there had once been a yellowing bruise. Tyler didn’t look up at him.

“Tyler, I didn’t get you a watch because I wanted you to buy _me_ a watch. I bought you a watch because I wanted to give you something.” Tyler blinked at his reflection in the glass. “It’s a gift. You don’t have to repay me.”

“But I want to,” Tyler said, still looking down. “I want to, but I can’t.”

“You already have,” Josh said, and then they were kissing, Josh’s fingers under Tyler’s jaw, lifting his face up, pulling him in ever so slightly, ever so gently. Josh pulled away. “I promise.” Tyler blinked at him, and then they were kissing again. Tyler reached blindly to put the box on Josh’s coffee table and then wrapped his arms around Josh’s back, pulling them closer together. His ribs protested the pressure, but Tyler didn’t care. Josh leaned against the back of the couch, Tyler straddling his hips. It made them both remember how much smaller Tyler was, how much less he weighed. Tyler’s cast rested awkwardly against the couch cushions. Josh’s hand found its way up Tyler’s shirt, his cold fingers brushing past bruised ribs and pale skin and stitches. Tyler leaned into the touch, holding onto Josh like he was the only thing keeping him alive.

Tyler put one hand against Josh’s chest, the other on his hip. He could feel Josh’s skin between where his shirt ended and his sweatpants began. He let his fingers trace the V of his hips, right up to the elastic of Josh’s boxers. Josh’s hand traveled down to the small of Tyler’s back, down to the start of Tyler’s shorts, and then down even farther than that. Tyler’s breath hitched, and they both stilled, statues, eyes closed, bodies close. Josh was waiting. Tyler knew that Josh was waiting. _Don’t do anything you don’t want to do._ Did he want this? Josh was waiting, patiently, so patiently. Their breaths echoed into each other’s lungs.

Tyler leaned in again, letting his lips part, letting Josh’s tongue travel farther, letting Josh’s hand travel farther, a silent _yes_ to an unasked question. Josh’s fingers wrapped around the skin of his hip, creeping closer, and Tyler realized he was hard. He realized Josh was hard. His blush didn’t stop at his cheeks. It traveled all the way down his chest, heating his skin like a fire. Josh’s fingers weren’t cold anymore. He was ready. He let his own hand dip past the hem of Josh’s shorts. He was ready. _Don’t do anything you don’t want to do._ He was ready.

And yet, he was completely unprepared.

Though he didn’t enjoy admitting it, no one had every touched Tyler like this. He’d never had a boyfriend, or a girlfriend, or anyone to kiss or hold or touch. No hands but his own had ever traveled that far, had ever done the things Josh was doing now. And now, as Josh wrapped his hand around Tyler’s dick, he couldn’t think straight. He gasped, pulled away from the kiss, and they were statues again, their foreheads pressed together, Josh with his hand in an obscene place, and Tyler with his hand aiming to do the same. They breathed together.

“Is this okay?” Josh asked, his voice faint. He sounded like an angel. Tyler felt the need to pray to any God that would listen, but he didn’t know what to ask for. Instead, he nodded.

“Yeah,” he whispered. Josh leaned forward, catching Tyler’s lips once more, and then he started moving his hand. Tyler couldn’t hold back the moan building in his throat. As his stomach tightened at the feeling, he gathered enough consciousness to reciprocate the gesture. They weren’t statues anymore. When Tyler closed his fingers around Josh’s dick, the two of them were anything but frozen, moving to the same rhythm, their breaths coming in short gasps. When Josh exhaled, Tyler inhaled. When Josh squeezed, Tyler moaned. The Titanic sank slowly in the background, dipping beneath the waves. Josh ran his thumb over the head of Tyler’s cock and Tyler let his mouth fall to Josh’s shoulder, leaving bite marks and bruises on the skin there. Josh let his head fall back against the couch, his breaths becoming slowly more and more vocal.

Despite the situation, Tyler felt pride swelling in his chest. He was doing that. _He_ was doing that. Small town Tyler Joseph was doing _that_ to big shot businessman Josh Dun. He twisted his wrist in just the right way and reveled in the sound the dragged out from between Josh’s lips. The Titanic was gone, leaving warm bodies in the open ocean; _I’ll never let go._

Tyler bit down on Josh’s skin as he came. Josh moaned Tyler’s name like it was holy.

 

***

 

Two and a half months after the accident, Tyler’s bones had healed. His skin had formed scars, his bruises were gone. His body still ached, but it was better. He had to keep the boot on his leg. It was the only way he could put weight onto his ankle, the only way he could keep from falling over with every step, but it was okay. He took his week off of work from the café to go on vacation with Josh on a road trip to the shore. He’d long since quit at the bistro; despite the recovery the bone in his leg had made, he couldn’t walk without a limp anymore. He couldn’t stay on his feet long enough to wait on one table, nonetheless ten or fifteen. Yale was an old goal. He hadn’t put any thought into what his new future would be, but it sure as hell didn’t involve a tuition like that. He’d elected not to think about it. He figured he deserved at least a break from worrying about _that._

Josh understood. That’s why they were going away. He wanted to give Tyler a week he’d never forget, staying in fancy hotels, sunbathing at the beach, swimming in pools that had tiles coated in gold. Tyler put his pride aside and let Josh spoil him; he’d been poor for his whole life. He figured he deserved this, too, in a way. Not that he was taking Josh for granted. It was nearly impossible to do that, not with the way Josh looked at him like he was the most valuable thing he’d ever had in his entire life. Not with the way Josh cared for him like a porcelain doll and touched him like his body was worth a second glance, worth taking the time to explore, worth _something._

This time, though, Tyler was the one with the surprise. It wasn’t a gift of any monetary value, but he had a feeling that it was better.

The final stop on Josh’s road trip plan was a boat. Not just any boat. _His_ boat. A boat that he had purchased with money that he had earned. The concept was baffling to Tyler, who had learned to save every penny he ever earned or found or was given. Josh had spent the equivalent of his first semester at Yale on a boat. It made him excited just to think about it.

It sat on the dock, rocking slowly in the waves. Tyler had never been on a boat before. He was coming to have a lot of _first times_ with Josh. This was in no way a bad thing. He and Josh were laying down on the bed below the deck, both of them in boxers. Josh wore a t-shirt. Tyler didn’t. The mattress was more comfortable than any hotel or home he’d ever stayed in. The TV was bouncing a logo around the screen, and Tyler had his head on Josh’s chest, listening to the sound of his heart. Josh had a hand in Tyler’s hair, as he almost always did, and his other hand traced the tattoo on Tyler’s shoulder. Tyler was working up the courage he needed to do what he wanted to do.

Josh was slow with Tyler. He never went farther than Tyler did. This, however, was turning out to be an issue, on account of the fact that Tyler never knew how far he actually wanted to go. They would kiss lazily for hours and then fall asleep on one another, and though there was nothing wrong with a little making out, Tyler had a feeling that there was more. A lot more. He made himself remember the times when he had the control, when he had Josh moaning his name, eyes closed tight, unable to do anything but _ask._ He made himself remember the pride, the confidence that came with that. He could do this.

“Can I try something?” He said, his voice echoing against Josh’s chest. Josh made a _hmm?_ noise, looking down at Tyler from where his head was propped up on pillows against the headboard. “I want to try something,” Tyler repeated, this time as a statement. He lifted his head off of Josh’s chest, sitting up a little.

“Try what?” Tyler shifted, positioning himself in between Josh’s legs, his hands on Josh’s thighs. Josh slowly understood. “Oh.” Josh slowly understood _more._ “ _Oh._ ” Tyler laughed at his reaction, and Josh smiled hesitantly. “Ty, are you sure?” Tyler nodded. “Do… do you know how?” Tyler blushed ferociously, and Josh couldn’t help but laugh a little at the red that was creeping down his neck, at the embarrassed look on his face.

“I… I googled it.” Josh burst out laughing, and Tyler blushed harder. “I’m sorry I’m not as _experienced_ as you, or whatever.” Josh pushed himself up a little further onto the pillows, still smiling.

“I just think you’re cute, that’s all.” Tyler’s blush was running out of skin to cover.

“Can I?” He asked. His confidence was slowly draining away. If he didn’t do something soon, he’d back out of it. Josh met his gaze.

“If you want, Ty. Only if you want to.”

“I do.” Now it was Josh’s turn to go pink in the cheeks. He watched Tyler’s hands as they slid under the elastic of his boxers, watched as the fabric slid down his hips and past his ankles, watched as Tyler inched forward, his fingers twitching slightly, the way they always did when he was nervous.

And God, was Tyler nervous. No WikiHow could prepare him for the real deal. Josh was already starting to get hard. It made Tyler’s heart jump a little to know that he hadn’t even touched him yet and he had this effect. He brought his hand up to his mouth and spat into it, knowing that Josh was still watching him carefully. He took a breath.

Josh shivered when Tyler’s fingers ran over the length of his dick. Tyler was always light touches and gentle strokes, thin fingers that were perfectly capable of proving that they weren’t weak. Josh let his eyes close at the feeling that was growing at the base of his stomach. Tyler placed one hand on the side of Josh’s chest and lowered his lips down onto Josh’s. Josh couldn’t help but smile. When had his life gotten this good? Tyler’s mouth disappeared after a moment, and the realization dawned upon him that those soft lips were traveling somewhere very different.

Josh opened his eyes.

Tyler leaned back against his calves for a moment, pumping his hand down one more time before putting both hands back onto Josh’s thighs. The hard plastic of his boot dug into the back of his thigh, a reminder of reality. He could do this. He could do this. He _wanted_ to do this.

After one more quick glance up to Josh’s eyes, he ducked his head down and let his tongue slide over the head of Josh’s dick, watching as the muscles underneath tensed, as Josh’s fingers curled into the bed sheets, desperate for something to hold on to. He tasted salt, something bitter, and smelled soap. He let his mouth fall lower, hollowing out his cheeks, making sure his teeth didn’t scrape the skin. Josh gripped the sheets even harder, his knuckles turning white.

If he was being honest, Tyler didn’t know what he was doing. He had no idea. But whatever it was, it was working. As he started to move his head, working his way farther down with each movement, Josh’s breaths got more and more uneven. At one point, Tyler overshot and gagged on the intrusion in his mouth. Josh had moaned at the noise and moved his hands up to rest in Tyler’s hair, holding it loosely, the mere ghosts of fingers. Tyler kept going.

He kept going until Josh pulling his hair, breathing his name with every exhale, until he choked on his words and his muscles tensed. Tyler didn’t know if he knew how to swallow, so he pulled off with a pop a split second before Josh came, sending streams of white up into the air and over his own stomach and onto his shirt. Both of their faces were flushed red. Josh had his eyes closed, panting. He threw an arm over his face in an attempt to compose himself before he met Tyler’s waiting gaze.

Finally, after his breaths evened out, Josh opened his eyes and sat up.

“How did I do?” Tyler asked, a smile growing on his face. Josh didn’t answer in words. Instead, he put a hand behind Tyler’s head and sucked bruises into his neck, into his shoulder, into his collar bone, pulling their bodies closer and closer until Tyler was right up against Josh and Josh was sliding his fingers past the waistband of Tyler’s shorts.

“Your turn,” he breathed, wrapping his hand around the skin of Tyler’s inner thigh. Tyler’s breath caught in his throat. He wasn’t expecting this. He held onto Josh’s shirt a little tighter. “Lay down.” The words sent a chill down his spine and froze him in place. It didn’t matter. Josh was guiding him down onto the pillows, their bodies trading places from where they were before. Josh’s hand was tugging at Tyler’s boxers. “Still want to try something?” Tyler nodded, half dazed. Josh smiled at him and pulled his underwear all the way down, tugging a little harder when it got stuck on the Velcro of the boot, until he had Tyler completely naked, lying on a bed of hundred dollar sheets on a boat that could put Tyler through college. Josh had never been happier. He ran his hands back up Tyler’s thighs, purposefully avoiding the area that begged the most attention.

Tyler looked like a deer in the headlights, eyes wide, pupils dilated, blushing rosy pink all the way down his chest. Josh had the power now. Tyler didn’t know why that made him so nervous.

“Ty?” Tyler met Josh’s eyes. “Still good?” _Don’t do anything you don’t want to do._ Tyler hesitated.

“Yeah,” he breathed. It was the truth. Josh didn’t waste a moment. His mouth was on Tyler not a moment later, swallowing him down all the way to the base. Tyler moaned, _loud,_ loud enough for it to bounce against the walls a little, loud enough to give Josh chills. He was Tyler’s _first._ He had to make it good. He pulled up, letting his teeth scrape just a little against Tyler’s skin, just enough to make his fingers wrap around the sheets the same way Josh’s had only a few minutes ago. One hand tangled itself into the fabric. The other flew up to cover the mouth that had just made a sound so obscene. Josh dragged his nails down Tyler’s thighs as he ducked back down, and Tyler whimpered against his hand, his hips bucking slightly under the slow pace that Josh was setting, silently begging for more. Josh obliged.

Every breath that Tyler let out was a moan, a sigh, a whimper, and prayer. He’d let himself let go of the bed sheet, let himself hold onto Josh’s curls instead. His fingers weren’t ghosts. They were tight, desperate to pull Josh closer than he already was. And then, every breath turned into a different prayer, a chant, _Josh, Josh, Josh,_ and Josh let one of his fingers wander, let it slip inside Tyler. He basked in the sound that dragged from between Tyler’s lips, his prayer turning into a warning, _I’m gonna cum._

Josh didn’t pull off. Tyler’s hips pushed up, forcing his dick farther into Josh’s mouth, and Josh didn’t pull off. He swallowed, his tongue pulling every last drop from Tyler until he was crying out Josh’s name like it would save him. Only when his hips finally settled back down onto the mattress did Josh pull off. Tyler had his eyes closed. He was still breathing hard, trying to steady his shaking muscles. Josh stretched up and kissed him all the way up his chest to his neck, gently enough to let him catch his breath. He lay down next to him, smiling at the way their bodies were the same kind of warm.

“I think I love you,” Tyler said slowly, carefully, clearly. Josh turned to look at him.

“Is that the first time you’ve said that to a boy?” He asked. Tyler shook his head, his eyes still closed. He curled up against Josh’s chest, listening to his heartbeat again.

“No,” he sighed. “But it’s the first time I’ve meant it.” Josh smiled.

“I think I love you too.” He felt Tyler hum, a happy noise. He wondered if Tyler could hear his heart skip a beat. “Hey, Ty?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you want to come live with me?” Tyler said nothing. After a moment, he sat up and stared at Josh.

“What?”

“Do you want to come live with me?” Tyler shook his head.

“I _heard_ you, Josh.”

“Is it really that ridiculous?”

“I mean, no… maybe? How am I supposed to know?” Josh laughed.

“I’m serious, Ty. Come live with me. You wouldn’t have to worry about rent anymore, the apartment is provided by the company. And if something happens, and you want to leave, I’ll make sure you have a place to go.” Tyler stared at him. He considered it. It would save him a lot of money. Maybe even enough to pay for a semester at Yale. Maybe. And it would mean he could be closer to Josh. Not to mention, Josh’s apartment was certainly a step up from his own. Josh blinked at him.

“Okay.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” Josh sat bolt upright and kissed Tyler full on the lips. Tyler pulled away, wiping his mouth.

“Oh my _God_ , seriously?”

“What?”

“I just gave you a blow job! And _you_ just gave _me_ a blow job. Kissing on the lips doesn’t exactly seem like–“

“Okay, okay, I see your point.” Tyler sighed.

“We need to shower,” he pointed out. Josh nodded.

“And we need to change the sheets,” he added. Tyler looked at him for a moment before bursting out in laughter. Josh joined in a second later. They were happy. Exhausted, and sweaty, but happy.

 

***

 

It was a lazy day, a day of laying around, doing nothing, staying in bed for as long as they wanted. Tyler didn’t have work, and Josh was taking a personal day. He was tracing the tattoos on Tyler’s chest with his fingernail as though he was the one drawing the black lines into place. Tyler wouldn’t tell him what they meant, but it didn’t matter. In fact, it was even more intriguing. Josh had confessed that he’d wanted to get a tattoo all his life, ever since high school. Something big, a tree, a galaxy, colorful. Tyler told him he’d go with him if he ever got it.

Josh was tracing the tattoos on Tyler’s chest and trying to figure out how to tell him the thoughts that were running in his head. He had to do it. He had to tell him. This was important. This wasn’t just an expensive watch or a surprise blow job. This was important.

“I have something to tell you,” Josh said, his voice coming out a lot more serious and guilty than he had intended. Tyler tensed up.

“You didn’t cheat on me, did you?” He asked quietly. Josh almost laughed.

“No, Ty, oh my God. No.” He felt Tyler relax.

“Then, what?” Josh took a breath.

“I paid your tuition.” The silence in the room was ear splitting. Tyler didn’t dare breathe. This was a joke. This had to be a joke. It was cruel. “Ty?” He’d given up on Yale. Yale was a dream, something that would never be reached. The deadline to pay was in two days. This had to be a joke. “Tyler.”

“You didn’t,” Tyler said. He sat up and examined Josh’s face. He had his eyebrows raised. “You…”

“I went through your parents. All four years, in full.” Tyler’s ears were ringing. “But if something happens and you want to transfer or drop out or something, it’s fine– there’s a guarantee of a full refund for the unattended semesters.”

“You didn’t.”

“Tyler, I did.”

“ _No.”_ Josh smiled at him. “No, no you didn’t, I– I gave up on Yale, _I gave up,_ you…”

“You’re brilliant, Tyler. You deserve it.”

“ _No.”_ He was crying. There were tears streaming down his cheeks, falling from his chin onto the bed. Josh sat up and held his face in his hands.

“Honey, I thought you’d be happy?” Tyler’s chest felt like it was caving in.

“I don’t deserve it,” he murmured, closing his eyes. Josh put their foreheads together.

“Yes, you do–“

“I don’t deserve it, I don’t deserve you, I don’t deserve this _life–“_

_“Tyler.”_

“It’s too much.” He was sobbing, now. He didn’t know why. “ _Why?”_ He didn’t know who the question was directed at. God, maybe. But for now, Josh was the only God who could answer.

“Because I wanted to. Because I love you. I want to see you happy.”

“I’m already happy,” Tyler said.

“I want to see you happy, and _doing what you love_. Not serving coffee all day, not worrying about what you’re going to do with the rest of your life, not fearing for your future.”

“I love you,” Tyler said. “I love you, I _love you_ ,” it was becoming more and more true, a fact, a constant variable, unchanging, faith. Tyler was crying, and Josh was hugging him.

“I love you too.” They were kissing. Tyler had memorized the way that Josh’s lips moved when they touched, the way that his tongue always crept forward, the way that his hands felt when they found their way under the hem of his shirt, his fingers cold and confident in their path. Tyler pulled their bodies close together. It was too much. _Yale_. He’d given up, and now his life was being thrust back into his hands. He laughed, interrupting the kiss with spontaneous, overwhelming joy. _Yale._ Josh laughed too, moving his lips to Tyler’s neck. _Josh._ _Yale. Josh._ His shirt was being pulled off over his head, his body being laid down against the pillows and sheets, Josh letting his mouth trail over skin and ink, _you’re so beautiful._ They were pressed up against each other, Josh’s mouth moving to the other side of Tyler’s neck, and Tyler made up his mind.

“I want you to fuck me,” he said, as though it was the only thing in his life that he’d ever been sure of. Josh pulled his lips away, his face only inches from Tyler’s.

“Are you sure?” Tyler nodded. “You don’t have to repay me, Tyler.”

“I’m not trying to repay you,” Tyler said, wrapping his hands around Josh’s torso and pulling the fabric of Josh’s shirt up and over his head so their skin could touch in all the right ways. Josh was breathing hard, his face red, his pupils blown wide. Tyler could feel his stomach beginning to warm. “I want this.” _Don’t do anything you don’t want to do._ He breathed. _I want this._

“Okay,” Josh said.

He kissed Tyler’s lips, kissed his neck, kissed his chest, his stomach. His fingers fumbled with the fly of Tyler’s jeans, and then fumbled with the fly of his own jeans. They were naked, together, and Josh’s hands weren’t cold anymore. They were warm against Tyler’s thighs, warm against his dick. Tyler leaned his head back against the pillows, silk pillowcases pressing against his cheeks, _when had this become his life?_ Josh paused and leaned over Tyler’s body, rummaging around in the bedside table until he found what he was looking for. Lube. A condom. Tyler’s breath hitched in his throat.

“Still okay?” Tyler nodded. Josh was his first. His first boyfriend, his first kiss, his first love. Tyler was more than okay. Josh had one hand between Tyler’s thighs and the other pressing against his hole. Tyler couldn’t help but groan as he felt Josh’s finger slip inside him, warm and cold and foreign and comfortable all at the same time. He brought his knees up, letting one of them rest against Josh’s shoulder. He imagined a tattoo there, bright green and blue and red and snaking down his skin onto his bicep, onto his forearm. Josh added a second finger, slick, and Tyler hummed, biting his lip and arching his back.

“There you go,” Josh murmured, his voice rumbling in his chest, deep, and Tyler let out a high-pitched sigh and let his eyes close. Josh began to move his fingers, in and out, and Tyler felt himself growing harder by the second. Josh took his hand away from Tyler’s dick and Tyler opened his eyes, watching as Josh picked up the condom, ripped the packaging open with his teeth, and slid it on. He held Josh’s gaze as a third finger was added, and Tyler bit his lip hard enough to taste metal. He closed his eyes again. _When had this become his life?_

He remembered the first time Josh had come into the café, the first time Josh had thanked him by name, the first time they’d had a real conversation. He remembered when Josh asked him out. He remembered the accident, the crash, the blood he tasted in his mouth, then, too, but different. He remembered Josh’s hands, remembered the way his skin tasted, the way _he_ tasted.

“Are you ready?” Josh asked. Tyler opened his eyes. Josh had stopped moving his hands and was watching Tyler’s expression with care for any sign of hesitation, of uncertainty, of fear, reminding himself that _he_ was the experienced one here, not Tyler. Tyler nodded.

“Yeah,” he said, his voice far away. Josh put his hands onto the backs of Tyler’s thighs, pushing them up just a little more, and lined himself up. Tyler could feel the rubber of the condom against his hole. Tyler wanted this. He wanted this. Josh wanted this, too.

“Breathe,” Josh said, and he pushed in. Tyler couldn’t follow his instruction. His lungs seized up, refusing to let air in or out. He clenched his teeth together. Josh kept pushing.

“ _Josh._ ” The name was ripped from his chest.

“Breathe, Ty,” he whispered. Tyler closed his eyes. He felt Josh leaning forward, felt hands on either side of his torso, felt Josh’s lips against his neck. A sigh shuddered out of him, transforming into a moan as Josh stopped moving in. “Good?” Tyler’s voice was caught in his throat. What was supposed to be a _yes_ came out as a whimper. He let go of the sheets that he’d balled up in his hands and wrapped his arms around Josh, holding onto him tightly. Josh kissed him again, inching forward ever so slightly, and Tyler’s breath caught in his throat again. “Breathe.” _Breathe._ He inhaled as Josh pulled out a little and moaned as he pushed back in.

Josh started moving, slowly, in and out to a steady rhythm. He was being gentle, being careful, making sure that Tyler was okay, that Tyler was breathing right, that he wasn’t in pain. After a moment, Tyler pulled him closer.

“I’m not broken anymore, Josh,” he whispered.

Josh took the hint.

He started moving faster, his hips rubbing against Tyler’s, slapping against his skin. Tyler’s breaths were prayers, his voice being pulled from him slowly. Josh kissed him and let him moan into his mouth. He felt Tyler’s fingernails raking down his back. Tyler was warm, his muscles tightening around Josh’s dick with every movement, and it wasn’t long before Josh’s breaths were equally as vocal. The bed was creaking, rocking back and forth. Josh held onto the headboard with one hand to avoid falling on Tyler and making it even harder for the boy to breathe. He thrust harder.

“ _Josh!”_ Tyler threw his head back, and Josh couldn’t help but smile. He was so beautiful, eyes closed tight, cheeks red, sweat beading on his chest. Josh dragged his tongue up Tyler’s neck and listened to the sound that came from his boy, _his_ boy. He kept going, harder, harder, until every one of Tyler’s breaths was Josh’s name, whispered, moaned, yelled, until there were no more inhales and Tyler was just laying there and making noises, unable to control his mind anymore. Josh could feel himself getting closer, closer, warmth pooling in his stomach.

Josh came first. His hips rutted against Tyler’s skin, pressing in deep, _needing_ to go deeper. Tyler’s nails were pulling at the muscles in his back, his lips parting. Josh didn’t pull out. He moved one of his hands to trail down Tyler’s chest, down his stomach.

“Please,” Tyler said. Josh obliged, working his hand up and down until Tyler was gone, too, and Josh was kissing him, and he was moaning into his mouth, the sound filling the space between their tongues. “I love you,” Tyler said, the words breaking the silence in the room. They breathed.

“I love you too.”

**Author's Note:**

> Major thanks to @thuscoffee for forcing me to write this and helping me plot plan! Hope you enjoyed ;) leave a comment if you want!


End file.
